


Strawberry

by PaintedVanilla



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friendship, Secret Relationship, Teenagers, Trans Male Character, Turtles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 20:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13934679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/pseuds/PaintedVanilla
Summary: Frances holds a strawberry out for the first turtle who can get to it, and she holds it so they can successfully bite into it. John sits down across from her and takes a strawberry out of the bowl, holding it out for another one to take it. They sit in silence, feeding the turtles and listening to the sounds of the city.





	Strawberry

“Hey, dad?” Frances says, standing in the doorway of the kitchen; John is standing over the counter doing something on his phone. She catches one moment of him smiling before he looks up at her and drops the expression of complete glee; instead he just looks more cheerful than he usually does. She hesitates, then she says, “I’m going over to Georges’ house, remember?”

“Which George?” John asks.

“Georges de La Fayette.” Frances says, “but George will also be there.”

John nods, “Kinda makes me wish you had picked a boyfriend who wasn’t named George.”

Frances rolls her eyes, “Oh, well.” she says. She’s about to continue, say that she’s going out front to wait for Georges, since he’s almost to her apartment, but she hesitates when her dad looks back down at his phone almost immediately. She shifts onto the tips of her toes to try to see what he’s looking at, but she can’t read anything clearly because she’s so far away.

She leans against the doorframe, crossing her arms and trying to look casual, “What are you doing?” she asks innocently.

John sets his phone on the counter with the screen down, “What are you gonna do at Georges’?” he asks quickly, folding his arms and leaning against the counter. They mirror each other almost perfectly.

Frances hesitates, “Super inappropriate things.”

“Oh?” John says, raising his eyebrows, “like what?”

“We’re gonna get drunk and high and go for a joyride.” Frances says.

“Oh, okay, well as long as you’re back by curfew.” John tells her.

Frances smiles and shakes her head, “Um, we were going to go get sushi and then Georges was gonna drive us back to his place and we were gonna spend the night there?” she finishes it off like a question, her voice high.

John nods, thinking, “Will George be present at this sleepover?”

“Well, it will be at his house.” Frances says, trying to avoid the question.

John gives her a look, “George the boyfriend.” he elaborates.

“Oh,” Frances says, pretending to only now understand, “that George. Well, his parents don’t really care what he’s doing as long as it’s not drugs, so yes?”

John hums, “And you’re going to be in separate rooms, yes?”

“We…” Frances starts, slowly.

“Oui?” John says, “so you’re French now?”

Frances laughs, then bites her lip, then says, “Um, we were going to sleep on that big bean bag chair in Georges’ room and Georges and Philip are gonna be sharing his bed so you can trust that neither of us will have sex because there are other people in the room!” she pitches.

John nods like he’s contemplating that, “How about you sleep on the bean bag and George sleeps on the floor?” he asks.

Frances nods, “Deal.” she says, stepping forward and holding her hand out.

He shakes it, then says, “I think you’re crossing your fingers behind your back.”

“That is a very wild accusation!” Frances says, feigning offense; her phone dings and she checks it, then says quickly, “Opps, Georges is here, I have to go, bye dad!”

“Perfect timing, Georges.” John says, “Make smart choices.”

She turns back towards him as she heads for the door, “Yes, sir.” she says, smiling. She grabs her house key off the counter and leaves John by himself.

…

“My dad was being really weird earlier.” Frances comments later when they’ve returned to Georges’ house. 

“Weird how.” George asks from where he’s laying next to her on the bean bag.

“Weird like, when I came in the kitchen he was smiling at his phone, and then when he noticed I was trying to look at it he put it face down on the counter.” Frances says.

“Secret Grindr account.” Philip says immediately.

Frances winces, “That’s disgusting.”

“But  _ true.”  _ Philip says, “I bet if I downloaded it right now I could find him.” he continues, picking his phone up off the nightstand where it’s charging.

“Do not download Grindr.” Georges says, reaching over him and taking his phone out of his hands, “Frances, I’m sure he was just like, looking at a great birthday present he got for someone and thinking about how much they were gonna love it.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Philip says, sitting up straight to look at her, “Your dad has a secret Grindr account.”

“You’re a gremlin.” Frances says; she picks her phone up since it’s the only small thing near her and throws it at him. It hits him in the forehead and he yells, falling back onto the bed, and George laughs.

Philip rolls over and buries his face into the pillow, and Georges rolls over to look at him, then he sits up to look at Frances, “You killed my boyfriend.” he says dramatically.

“What are you going to do about it?” Frances asks.

Georges picks one of the pillows on his bed up and throws it at Frances as hard as he can; she squeals and ducks, hiding behind George, and he grabs the pillow and throws it back at Georges just as hard. 

Georges catches it, “That’s not fair, you’re getting your boyfriend to do all the fighting for you.” he claims.

“So is Philip!” George argues.

“I’m avenging his death!” Georges cries, throwing the pillow back.

…

“My dad has been acting different lately.” Frances mentions later; it’s almost midnight. Georges and Philip are asleep in his bed and Frances and George are still laying on the beanbag. They’re spooning, curled up at an awkward angle trying to sleep on something that wasn’t meant to be slept on.

“Maybe Pip’s right.” George mutters, and Frances shoves him a little bit and he smiles, “how is he being different?”

“I mean, he’s normally just really sad.” Frances says, “He’s always quiet and he always looks like he’s thinking about sad stuff.”

“So you’re upset that he’s not sad?” George asks.

“ _ No _ .” Frances insists, “I just want to know  _ why  _ he’s not sad.”

“You’re so nosy.” George says quietly.

“I don’t think his meds have changed.” she continues, ignoring him, “and I haven’t noticed him doing anything different in general. He just seems happier and I want to know why.”

“Maybe he started smoking weed again.” George suggests, and Frances laughs quietly, trying not to wake Philip and Georges, “I don’t know, babe. Do you think when he looks all sad and like he’s thinking about stuff he might be thinking about your other dad.”

“He says I don’t have another dad.” Frances says, “Well - I mean - I do. Somewhere. But he says he doesn’t know who it is.”

“Maybe he’s lying.” George says, “Maybe he died before you were born.”

Frances is quiet for a moment, “I would’ve seen pictures.” she finally insists, “I don’t think it’s that.”

“Then maybe Philip is right and he just has a secret Grindr account.” George says after a moment.

“Stop, I hate that.” Frances groans, rolling to try to get away from him. He pulls her back closer to him, almost on top of him, and she whines, “you’re all gross.”

“Go to sleep.” Georges says suddenly from his bed, groggily, and George and Frances are quiet for a moment before they both start giggling.

…

“Can I come up for like two minutes to get my phone charger?” Philip asks the next morning while Georges is driving them home.

Frances rolls her eyes; she’s sitting in the backseat with George, “You left that at my apartment like three years ago. It’s mine now.”

“But I left my nice one with you and the one I have now is breaking.” Philip whines, turning back to look at her, “it’s good quality.”

“Okay, well, I’ve probably spilled coffee on it at least twice by now, so now it’s worthless.” Frances says.

“Hey, Fran?” Georges asks.

“Also, if you love it so much, why didn’t you just buy a new one?” Frances asks Philip, ignoring Georges, “I know you bought that charger for like one dollar off a shady website.”

“My mom won’t let me buy cheap things off shady websites anymore.” Philip whines.

“Fraaaaan.” Georges tries again.

“If I give you your charger back, you have to give me back my brown flannel jacket that I left at your house last semester.” Frances argues.

“That is  _ not _ a fair trade!” Philip exclaims, “Your dad would totally let you buy a cheap charger that looks exactly like mine from a shady website! I’ll never be able to find another jacket like that one because you ripped the tag off!”

“Yeah, I know! That’s why I want it back!” Frances says.

Georges turns suddenly and parks on the side of the street next to the apartments, startling Philip and Frances out of their argument, and startling George who was listening to it happily.

“What was that for?” Frances asks as she straightens himself up.

Georges opens up the center console to pretend to look for something, “I’m glad I finally got your attention.” he says, “can you look at your front door for two seconds?”

Frances, Philip and George all do so, turning their heads too look at the front door of Frances’ apartment; Philip gasps, ducking his head down between his legs, “What the fuck.” he says, grinning widely, “Is this allowed? Is that allowed?”

Standing on the steps leading up to her front door is John, who is perched in the doorway, and another man none of them recognize. He’s barely taller than John, and he seems very enthralled in what he’s saying. John pauses, and the man says something, and then John laughs loudly. 

Philip sits back up, turning around to face Frances, a shit-eating grin on his face, “I was right.” he says triumphantly.

“No you weren’t!” Frances cries immediately, “I don’t even know who that is!”

“Your dad met him on Grindr and they hooked up last night!” Philip proclaims loudly.

“Pip, shut up!” Georges says, grabbing Philip by one side of the collar of his flannel and pulling him down gently, “would you just like to roll down the window and ask for his name?”

“Hey Philip, when was the last time you kissed a one-night stand goodbye at the door?” George asks from the backseat, and all four of them glance over just in time to see John press a kiss to the strangers lips; he’s holding both of his hands in his.

“I’m going to scream.” Frances says.

“New theory, your dad has a boyfriend.” Philip declairs.

“He’s coming over here.” Georges says, gritting his teeth and going back to pretending to look through the console for something. The stranger is walking down the front steps to their apartment and down the sidewalk towards their car while John watches him from the door.

Frances curses and unbuckles her seatbelt, sliding down and throwing herself onto the floor of the car. George bursts into laughter, particularly because the way she slid down and collapsed on the floor was somehow ridiculous and charming at the same time.

While he’s laughing, Georges glances up at Philip, “Don’t look suspicious.” he mutters. Philip immediately ignores him and turns in his seat, waving at the stranger as he walks past their car. The stranger waves back, a slightly confused expression on his face, but he continues on anyways. 

Georges finally stops rummaging through the console and George stops laughing, though Frances remains on the floor of the car and Philip looks very pleased with himself. “He was walking with quite a spring in his step.” he says lightly, “somebody got laid last night.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass.” Frances snaps, starting to sit up.

Once the stranger has driven away, Georges says, “We should wait a few minutes so - ”

“I’m going to get my charger!” Philip declares, manually unlocking his door and jumping out of the car.

“Philip Hamilton!” Frances yells, pulling herself up and climbing over her boyfriend to get out of the car. She chases him to her front door, now closed, but he has to wait for her to unlock it. She steps up onto the small porch next to him, “Go get back in the car.” she says.

“I’ll only be a minute, I just want my charger.” Philip says innocently.

Frances scowls at him, but nevertheless pulls her key out of her bag and unlocks the front door. Immediately, Philip bolts up the stairs and Frances follows him quickly, barley having time to shut the door. John looks startles when they both slide into the kitchen after running up the stairs.

Frances clears her throat, standing up straight, “Hey dad.” she says awkwardly.

“Hey.” he says lightly, lifting a hand in greeting, then looking at Philip, “hey Pip.”

“Hey Uncle John.” Philip says with a smile.

“I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.” John says, glancing at the clock on the oven. While he’s not looking Philip nudges Frances and she elbows him in return.

“Philip was just coming up to get his charger.” Frances says, then she turns to looks at him pointedly, “You should do that now and then leave.”

Philip winks at her then darts out of the kitchen; Frances looks back at her dad and smiles. He grins back at her, then takes a sip of his coffee. They stand in silence until Philip comes back into the kitchen with his charger wrapped up in his hand.

“Thank you for letting me pop in.” he says politely, slipping past Frances, “I’ll see you on Monday, my dear.” he says to her, and she holds her hand behind her back and flips him off.

He just smiles and disappears back down the stairs. There’s a pause after the door opens and closes where John and Frances still stand in silence, then he says, “So how was sushi?”

“Huh?” Frances says, having forgotten about everything except what she just saw outside, “Oh! Uh. It was good. Philip ate a dollop of wasabi and almost died.”

John laughs, “Sounds about right.”

Frances nods, “So, uh, did you do anything? Interesting?” she asks.

John shrugs, “Not really.” he says, and Frances bites her lip and nods. 

She starts to walk out of the kitchen, but she pauses in the doorway and spins around, “Hey, uh, I noticed you bought strawberries the other day.” she says, “do you want to take the turtles up on the roof?”

John smiles, “Sure!” he says cheerfully, “girls or boys?”

Frances frowns, “Um, both.”

“You and I both know if we bring them all up there, they’ll be more interested in each other than in the strawberries.” John says.

“Because they’re in love.” Frances says, “and frankly the fact that you deny them the ability to express that is very cruel.”

John shakes his head, smiling, “I don’t have a license to breed turtles, Fran, and I’m not interested in obtaining one.” he tells her, “girls or boys?”

Frances huffs, “Girls.”

…

John pours Frances a cup of coffee and they put a third of the strawberries into a bowl, then they bring John’s three female box turtles onto the roof of their building. Their apartment doesn’t have a balcony, just a small concrete front porch, but they do have access to the roof, which was built in such a way so people could use it like a balcony, so John likes to let the turtles come up and walk around and get fresh air sometimes. Frances sits down and all three of the turtles immediately crowd around her, since she’s holding the bowl of strawberries and they know the drill by now. 

Frances holds a strawberry out for the first turtle who can get to it, and she holds it so they can successfully bite into it. John sits down across from her and takes a strawberry out of the bowl, holding it out for another one to take it. They sit in silence, feeding the turtles and listening to the sounds of the city.

“Yertle loves strawberries, but she misses her lover.” Frances says after a few minutes, and John laughs.

“Does Shelly miss her lover, too?” John asks.

“No, Shelly is a lesbian.” Frances says immediately, and John laughs even louder. Frances continues, “Shelly doesn’t have a lover, because both of her friends are tragically heterosexual.”

John huffs, “I love the phrase ‘tragically heterosexual.’” he says, “It’s… a mood?” he adds, looking at his daughter for approval.

Frances cringes, but she’s smiling, “How can ‘tragically heterosexual’ be your mood if you’re gay?” she asks.

“Touché.” John says, then takes a sip of his coffee.

Frances picks up another strawberry and holds it out; she bites her lip, then says, “Hey, dad?”

He hums, and she continues, “I - uh - I saw… um… when Georges dropped me off… I saw… you… with… a guy…”

John is blushing very hard, “Oh.”

“Philip is trying to tell me you have a Grindr account and I’m begging you to tell me that’s not true.” Frances says.

John blinks, momentarily distracted from his embarrassment, “What’s a Grindr account?”

“Oh, thank god.” Frances says, “but, um, whomst?”

“That’s not a real word.” John says.

“You’re not a real word.” Frances counters, “Whomst was he.”

“A friend..?” John tries.

“Do you kiss all your friends goodbye at the door?” Frances asks in the same tone.

John sighs, “I was going to tell you about him, but you know sometimes I don’t know how to speak.”

Frances hums, “What’s his name?”

John smiles slightly, “Charles.”

She smiles back at him, “How long have you been dating?”

John shrugs, squirms a little, “I don’t want to say.”

“A while?” Frances asks, obviously offended, and he shrugs again, “and you never said anything at all?”

“To be fair, I haven’t said anything to anyone.” John points out, “the only people that know we’re dating are me and Charles and all of the turtles.”

“You told the turtles before you told me!” Frances exclaims.

“They live in the living room!” John says, laughing.

“Tell me how long you’ve been dating.” Frances whines.

John picks a strawberry out of the bowl and holds it out for a turtle, “Six months. Almost seven.”

“You’ve been dating for longer than me and George.” she says, and he shrugs. Frances is quiet for a moment, then she asks, “Is he nice?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be dating him if he was mean.” John says, and Frances rolls her eyes. He continues, “He’s nice, yeah, sure.” he pauses, “I mean… it’s just nice, in general.”

“What’s nice in general?” Frances asks.

“Being in love with someone who loves you back.” John says, and Frances looks at him quizzically.

“You say that as if you’ve been in love with someone who didn’t love you back.” she says; he gives her a look and she raises her eyebrows, “Oh? Story time?”

John rolls his eyes, “It’s a very short and terrible story.” he says.

“Well, I want to hear it.” Frances tells him.

John shrugs, looking away, “I was in love with this guy in college and he married someone else and he never knew and I was sad, the end.” he says quickly.

Frances frowns, “Who?” she asks.

John looks at her, “Hm?”

“When you tell college stories, it’s always you and Uncle Alex and Lafayette and Hercules and Aaron Burr.” she says, “were you just omitting this dude from all your stories or what?”

John sighs deeply, “You’ve asked a question and given yourself multiple choice answers.” he says.

Frances’ eyes go wide, “Are you serious?” she asks, and John just grunts, “Who?? Oh my god, dad. I’m literally friends with all of their children. Which one of my friends dads were you in love with??”

John hesitates, “Am still in love with?” he says.

“Present tense!?” Frances exclaims, then sets the bowl of strawberries down and stands up; she walks around the perimeter of the roof once then sits back down in front of her dad, “Whomst.”

“I already said multiple choice.” John tells her.

“Is it Lafayette?” Frances asks, “because he is gorgeous.”

John laughs, “While I agree, no.”

Frances thinks for a moment, “Aaron Burr?”

John wrinkles his nose, “No.” he says, and Frances laughs.

“Harsh.” she says, “hm. Hercules?” she asks; John shakes his head, and Frances gasps, “Uncle Alex?”

John squirms again, and Frances covers her mouth for a moment, then uncovers it and says, “Seriously?”

John laughs, “Now you have to promise me you will never,  _ ever  _ say anything to him. Or to Philip.”

“Okay, sure, whatever,” Frances says quickly, “But  _ seriously?” _

“He was very charming and I was very gay and lonely.” John says defensively, “and then he met Eliza and he got married and I was still very gay and lonely and why do you care about this?”

“This is the most interesting thing you’ve ever told me.” Frances says, smiling.

“That’s not true, my love life is a desolate wasteland.” John tells her, clearly amused by her response.

“ _ That’s  _ not true, you have a boyfriend.” Frances argues.

John grins, blushing, “Are you satisfied now that you know every single detail about my love life?”

“Yes, I am extremely satisfied, thank you.” Frances says, “now I can tell my friends who that strange man we saw was.”

“Ah, right,” John says, “can you ask them not to say anything to their parents?”

“Are you going to tell one person every seven months?” Frances asks, amused.

John nods, “In April I’ll tell my dad, and in November of next year I’ll tell my sister.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Frances says, “in the meantime you should introduce me to him, because he needs my seal of approval.”

“Which is what I’ve been dreading.” John says with a smile, “can we go back inside? It’s hot out here.”

“The girls love the heat, this is like a big heat lamp with fresh air. And they’re finishing their strawberries.” Frances says, gesturing to the turtles who are attempting and failing to get to the remaining strawberries inside the bowl.

John picks the bowl up and stands up with some effort, “If you want to stay out here and sweat your ass off with my other daughters, please feel free, but I am old and I hate the heat.”

“I am young and spry and I love the heat!” Frances says.

“We both know that’s not true!” John says knowingly, turning and heading for the door, “please come inside before you get heat stroke.”


End file.
